


Gold Strings

by orphan_account



Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: I am so sorry this is gonna be bad, I can't remember the other one oops, I really want to call them the Fantastic Foursome for some reason, I suck at tagging, I'll add more tags later, M/M, Multi, Organic Maple, Polyamory, Polygamy, Red Velvet Pancakes - Freeform, Veggie Burgers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-01 16:33:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5212928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred breaks one of his strings of fate, and now he sees them everywhere. He starts seeing the ones connecting him to other people, and how the colors and shapes of them can be different. Matt's mom tells him what they mean, and that a gold string means that person is your soulmate - but what happens when Alfred has more than one?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Loss of Clarity

Alfred was just taking a shower, thinking of how angry he was when it happened. The thoughts of the fight he had had with his friend Ivan were racing through his head, the words they had parted with grating on his nerves like nails on a chalk board. He was furiously scrubbing shampoo into his hair, trying to let the hot water take away some of this tension from the pent up emotions from such a big fight.

Alfred remembered exactly how he had said it, voice thick with his Russian accent as he had started backing away from the red faced American with fury in his eyes. “Maybe we should just not see each other again, da? If he’s so important that you can’t give others any of your time, then maybe you should just spend it all with him.”

Then Ivan had left, leaving a furious and fuming blonde boy standing on an icy sidewalk outside a subway station in New York. Alfred had just turned and took the train straight home, then stomped his way through his little apartment to the shower.

“Fuck!” Alfred yelled, slamming the side of his fist against the shower wall. If Ivan couldn’t understand that his best friend would always be the most important person to him, then what did he need him for anyway? Ivan was right, it would be best if they just never saw each other again.

A sound like rope pulling tight was heard in the back of Alfred’s mind, and then a small snap that echoed through the room. Alfred looked around the shower and peeked out the curtain to try and see what it was in confusion, but couldn’t see anything that had broken. That is, until he noticed a red thread stretching towards the edge of his shower, seemingly leading to the side Alfred was on. He looked down and saw the end of the string laying frayed just over the rim of the tub, and as he reached down to grab it out of curiosity, he saw an identical broken thread, tied to his pinky.

“What the hell?” he whispered, bringing his hand up to his face. That string had surely not been there when he got in, he thought he would have remembered tying some long-ass string to his hand.

After shutting off the shower and drying off, Alfred picked up the end of the string and followed it, all the way to the door of his apartment, where he had to stop because he was only wearing a towel. He opened the door and peeked out into the hallway, and got even more confused. it looked like the string ended...but the end was coming closer?

The blonde boy watched as the string seemed to fade, or burn up, or disintegrate, he couldn’t tell, slowly towards the side he was holding. It made its way to the bundle of red in his hands, and the rest slowly faded from Alfred’s hand, leaving it empty. However, the little bow with a tiny piece attached to it was still on his pinky, and showed no signs of leaving. He gently tugged at the protruding string, but it wouldn’t come off. Then he pulled hard, and the string still refused to budge, not even giving in the slightest. Getting angry, Alfred let out a grunt and pulled at both of the loops.

He was immediately brought to his knees, eyes glazing over as all he could see in his mind was the image of Ivan, smiling awkwardly, sitting down, looking out a window, walking beside him, frowning, every pose and position and emotion Alfred had ever seen him in, flashing all at once. He grabbed his ears as Ivan’s voice was swimming through his ears, millions of words all at once, his laughs, his sentences, his little sighs of disappointment when Alfred told him he couldn’t hang out.

“You are one of my good friends, Alfred.”

“We should go see a movie this weekend!”

“Are you going to Matthew’s again?”

“You’re positive you can’t stay a little longer?”

And, sounding so loud Alfred thought he might go deaf, “Maybe we should just not see each other again, da?”

All at once after that, it was silent, and Alfred was left staring at the string on his finger, wondering what it was and how it got there. There was a ringing in his ears as he removed his hands from covering them, and as he looked up, the room was fuzzy around the edges, images of Ivan still fading from his mind’s eye. His automatic reaction in this kind of panic was to stand and stumble to his room, throwing on a pair of sweatpants he found on the floor and calling his best friend.

The phone rang as Alfred searched desperately for his glasses, walking all over his apartment as he ran a hand through his hair. Right as he found his glasses on the bathroom counter, Matthew picked up the phone.

“Alfred? What’s up?” he asked, sounding just as happy and bubbly as the last time Alfred had saw him. Shoving his glasses onto his nose, he looked at himself in the mirror, trying to see if he was insane. To his surprise, there was another string, this one tied around his wrist. He followed it in the mirror, and saw how it seemed to disappear into his cell phone.

“Mattie? I need your help, I think I’m going insane.” he gasped out, staring at the string attached to his other wrist in horror. It was a strange, reflective gold color. Alfred reached out, and tried in vain to grab the string with his other hand, only for his fingers to barely feel the ghost of a touch before passing through it.

“I’m on my way,” Matthew said immediately, and hung up. Alfred sat on the seat of the toilet, staring at his wrist and watching as the string started to shimmer, like it was coming in and out. Alfred found that when he really focused on it, he could see it clearly, but when his thoughts started to wander, it would seem as if it was flickering. It now no longer lead to his phone, but to the door of his bathroom, but Alfred didn’t follow it. He just pulled his legs on top of the lid with him, waiting for Matthew.

***

Three knocks sounded on the door to Alfred’s apartment, but he didn’t move. He just kept staring at the string, willing it to not disappear. If it did, he might never be able to prove to himself he wasn’t going crazy. The door opened on its own a few seconds later, and a soft voice called, “Alfred? I hope you don’t mind, but Matt was with me, so I kind of had to bring him! Where are you?”

Without looking away from his wrist, Alfred called out, “Bathroom.”

Two sets of footsteps started towards the door, and Alfred watched in amazement as the string grew brighter, and it seemed to get bigger and stronger, pulling tight at his wrist instead of laying limp and leading to nowhere like before.

The bathroom door swung open, and there stood a concerned Matthew, his boyfriend standing tall and broad right behind him. Alfred stood up, and as he walked towards his best friend, the string seemed to practically glow, and it had a source. Alfred’s eyes locked in on the other end of the (now rope-sized) string tied around his little curly-haired friend’s wrist.

“Oh my god, it was tied to you,” Alfred mumbled, and looked down at the sad little piece of red thread. “Who was this one?”

“Are you okay, Alfred? You seem kind of...out of it.” Matthew asked, “What’s wrong?”

Alfred looked at Matthew’s face, his eyes locked on his own. Wasn’t he seeing the rope? “Can’t you see it? This stupid rope is huge, Matthew, of course I’m confused. When did it get here?” he rambled, grabbing the huge chunk of rope and holding it up between them. Matt seemed to bristle a little bit, and his shoulders tensed up, but Alfred paid no attention to it, instead looking between the rope and his best friend.

Matthew looked kind of scared, and came a little closer to Alfred, trying to understand what he meant. “What rope?” he asked, glancing at Alfred’s hand and seeing nothing. His lavender eyes were frightened as he searched his best friend’s body for some kind of injury, looking for some reason for Alfred to act this way. Alfred gestured to Matthew’s wrist, hoping to get the message across.

Matt, who knew Alfred just enough to call each other friends, put a steady hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “Babe, can you go wait outside for me? I think I might know what’s going on,” he said, pulling the smaller blonde towards the door.

“What is it? Tell me,” Matthew begged, seeming even more scared. If he had to wait outside, how bad was this?

“Trust me, Matthew,” Matt said, looking him in the eye. With one more glance at Alfred, Matthew nodded, his one untamed curl bouncing as he turned and left the room. Alfred stared as the rope got smaller the farther Matthew went.

“It’s getting smaller…” Alfred murmured, staring as the rope turned to something more like a shoelace.

As soon as the door to the apartment closed, Matt grabbed Alfred’s arm and pulled him into the living room. He gently led Alfred to the couch, and after pushing him down onto the cushions, Matt sat down in the armchair across from him. He leaned over, placing his elbows on his spread knees, and clasped his hands closer to his mouth, seeming to try and think of something to say.

“Alfred, I’ve told you before that I was from a kind of...hippie family, right?” he asked tentatively, and waited patiently for a response. Alfred nodded numbly, looking at his hand, where another string had appeared, barely a thread, also a shimmery gold. It was so thin and small that Alfred was surprised it didn’t snap.

“Well, my mom was a little more into the supernatural side of things, and she sometimes did a little, um, witchcraft. She used to tell me all kinds of stories as a kid, and what you are talking about - I think you’re seeing strings of fate. You said you had a rope between you and Matthew, right?” Matt rambled, seeming to lose himself in his thoughts, “That means you guys have a very strong bond, which is to be expected, since you guys are best friends.”

Alfred gave a tentative tug on the thin thread, and once again, he was able to touch it for only a moment before it slipped through his grasp, but he had felt the resistance when he pulled it for the millisecond he had a hold of it.

Matt leaned almost all the way out of his chair, and then just slid to his knees in the floor next to Alfred, and putting both hands on his shoulder. “Listen, Alfred, I’m going to give you my mom’s phone number. I think you’re what she calls a certain type of seer - some can see different things, but all of them are things regular people can’t see. I thought all those stories she told me were full of shit, but...obviously I was wrong. You might want to keep this from Matthew, at least until we figure this out, okay? I’ll come over to talk to you when he’s not so upset, and we’ll keep it between us, alright? We’ve became really good friends over these past few months, so I care about you.” Alfred’s eyes started to itch at the sudden glow of the small, fragile string, and it seemed to grow just the tiniest bit.

Alfred nodded, and pushed up his glasses to rub his eyes. This was a lot to take in. “Yeah, I understand, Matt. Thank you. Um, but what do these things mean? Like, there are so many, are they connected to everyone? What do the different colors and sizes mean? Can’t you see the one on your wrist?” Alfred didn’t mean to ask so many questions, knowing Matt probably didn’t know.

“Hmm, I might remember some of the things my mom told me when I was a kid - why, what does the one between us look like?” he asked, backing away slightly to give Alfred his space. The little string stretched out, and Alfred now saw it shimmering, tied to Matt’s wrist.

“Well, it’s kind of tiny - but it started glowing when you were touching me. Um, it’s a weird shiny gold color kind of, like it’s gold but it’s also really fucking sparkly. It’s tied to our wrists.” Alfred explained, knowing his description of the color was vague, but it was the best he could do. His mind was still a mess.

“Oh, uh, really? Are you sure that it’s tied to my wrist?” Matt asked, looking a little troubled.

Alfred raised an eyebrow, glancing at the thread again. “Yeah, it’s tied in the same place Matthew’s was, it’s actually identical to mine and Matthew’s, except for the size, now that I think about it.”

“Uh-huh,” Matt mumbled, looking bothered, “maybe I don’t remember. You should talk to my mom, I’ll call her later to tell her what’s going on, so just...call tomorrow, okay?”

Alfred nodded, and watched as Matt stood up and headed for the door. He seemed to be typing on his phone, and shortly after Alfred felt his own phone vibrate with a message, presumably Matt’s mom’s phone number. “Matt, wait,” Alfred called, feeling like he had to say something. It wasn’t every day your best friend’s boyfriend did this much for you.

Matt turned to look at the blonde man, hand on the doorknob, left hand shoved in his pocket, taking his and Alfred’s knot of string with it. Alfred stumbled over his words, still in shock from what he was doing, what was happening.

“Th-thank you, for all of this.” he stammered, and watched as Matt gave him one final nod and then opened the door.

“Get some rest, Alfred.” he said, and then walked out. Before the door closed on the hallway outside, Alfred could already hear Matthew asking what was going on and if he was okay.

Alfred ran a hand through his hair, and stood, walking to his bedroom. It was already late, so going to sleep shouldn’t be that hard. So many things had happened today, and all the pent up emotions came out just before he sat on his bed, fat tears spilling over his cheeks. He didn’t usually cry in front of anybody, only Matthew on occasion, and maybe his parents when he was a kid.

Of course, throughout everything that had happened, it still remained that he and Ivan were probably never going to be as close as they had been. Hell, they’d probably never talk again - Ivan hated him by now, he was pretty sure. There wasn’t a chance for him to think back over it, but maybe it was better off this way, really. Ivan had been upset because Alfred kept putting Matthew as his top priority. Who wouldn’t put him at the top? Matthew was the person most precious to Alfred, had been through thick and thin with him, so when Matthew wanted Alfred, he would have him.

It would always be that way, and he was never going to change this fact. Maybe other people could come to be on the same level as Matthew, but he was almost certain it would be impossible to get higher. Alfred couldn’t function correctly without his best friend. He had even started to think it might be more than a friendly love at some points, but Matthew was always getting into relationships, sometimes with assholes and sometimes with guys like Matt. If it was more than a friendly love, Matthew wouldn’t have dated so many people, would he? In the end, Alfred just wanted Matthew happy, whether it was with him or with someone else, as long as they were deserving of his sweet little Canadian. Ivan was not the first person to get upset over Alfred’s way of ranking his friends, and he probably wouldn’t be the last.

Regardless, it still left another name on Alfred’s long list of people who had abandoned him because they didn’t understand his loyalty to Matthew. However, the longer Matt was with Matthew, the less it seemed Alfred got to see him. It didn’t matter if Matt was there when they hung out, Alfred didn’t mind. In fact, Alfred had came to enjoy spending just as much time with the both of them as he did with just Matthew. Matt was just a private person, and although he liked Alfred’s presence, he also thought spending time alone with your significant other was extremely important in any relationship. (Even if they did sometimes get bored and invite Alfred along anyway.)

Alfred buried his face in his hands, not used to dealing with so many emotions at once. He scrubbed his eyes furiously, thinking that would somehow reset the day and make everything normal, take away these feelings that he didn’t know what to do with, and make people understand him.

  
Instead, it only made his eyes burn. So he laid down for another night of restless sleep, and hoped tomorrow would bring some answers and a chance to move on from what happened with Ivan.


	2. Hollow Chests and a Mother's Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So he decided that with no shortage of money and all of New York at his fingertips, he would rent out a shitty, on-the-verge-of-collapsing-in-on-itself, dilapidated apartment to be closer to his best friend, who lived in a townhouse half a mile away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is...hm. Not my best, but certainly not my worst. I might try to slow it down, because I think for this chapter (and the upcoming one that I started already) the plot is moving a bit too quick. This one's pretty sad, just a warning.
> 
> {Lol pls comment or contact me and tell me what you think about this, constructive criticism and light prompting are welcome. You guys letting me know that you like it is seriously the only thing that drives me to write.}

Alfred woke with sore eyes and a heavy heart. He stumbled out of bed and into his kitchen, where he started his morning ritual with his coffee and a bagel in the toaster. He avoided the other half of his routine, which was to check his phone and see if anybody had tried to contact him. He had left his phone sitting on his nightstand on purpose. Today, he had decided, was a day for getting his thoughts together and calling Matt’s mom.

He couldn’t for the life of him remember her name, and had never felt the need to until now, because he had only seen her once in passing when she had visited Matthew’s house to meet him a few months ago, Alfred walking in as she walked out. He remembered he short blonde hair, and her blue-green eyes and kind smile, the way she had waved to him as she adjusted the flowers pinned in her hair as she got into Matt’s truck to go back to his apartment. She had only stayed for that weekend, and only visited Matthew twice, spending most of her time with her son.

Matt had later told them all about how most of their time was spent by her refreshing all of her old rituals on him, saying she was making sure he was safe and reminding him how to do certain spells and blessings, before she went back to France. Matt, even then, had deemed it all bullshit, and told them not to worry about her, she had always been a little more eccentric than most.

Now, Alfred found himself trying to desperately remember anything else Matt had said about his mother. Most of all, he wanted to remember the name of the woman who was - basically - his only hope of proving that he wasn’t completely insane now. Hopefully, she would have the answers to everything, but he knew it was rude and irrational to expect her to be able to fix everything.

Alfred sighed, dejected, as he leaned against the counter of his run-down kitchen, the counters a dull green and a pile of dirty dishes in the sink that he liked to tell himself he would wash later that day. He stared around at the entire room, the dusty yellow curtains over the dirty window, the pile of books taking up all the surface space of his small dining table for two, the slight beginnings of rust around the edges of his faucet. The hum of the fridge as it continued the fight to keep his food just a little colder than room temperature, the case of beer sitting in the corner, the three trash bags he kept forgetting to take out tied up next to it.

It made Alfred feel worse, because the room reflected exactly how lonely Alfred was, because he never had to clean it up. Matthew came over less and less, and when he did, he was only there for a half hour at most and didn’t go past the living room. Alfred’s room was equally as messy, as opposed to how clean he used to keep it for Matthew. It used to be used for those nights when they had gone out drinking together, or to the club, and were left stumbling and not wanting to walk the extra half mile to Matthew’s house. They hadn’t had a reason to go out together again since Matthew had met Matt, because the whole purpose was to find dates, and Matt and Matthew hadn’t even met in a club or bar, but at a music store. Alfred wasn’t mad about it, he just missed the time they used to spend together. Truth be told, he had never actually looked for dates when they went out, but Matthew had gone on his fair share before he met Matt.

Alfred was then harshly reminded the only reason he lived in the little apartment even though he could afford a much larger one: because it was only a half mile from Matthew. Alfred knew he had accidentally based everything he did around his best friend, but he couldn’t help it. After his parents had kicked him out when he was 17, Matthew had been the only one there for him, giving him a home until he got into college with full scholarships and graduating with his degree in Operations Research Analysis, paired with the  job he had managed to keep since he was 15 as an assistant at an accountant’s office, at 24, he was already making upwards of a hundred thousand a year. Math was the only thing he could claim he was good at, and now he worked for a stuck up multi-purpose company in the middle of New York, over a team of analysts as a manager to predict how finances would go and recommending how to avoid problems.

So he decided that with no shortage of money and all of New York at his fingertips, he would rent out a shitty, on-the-verge-of-collapsing-in-on-itself, dilapidated apartment to be closer to his best friend, who lived in a townhouse half a mile away.

As the coffee finished brewing, Alfred poured a cup, and decided he didn’t need the cream or sugar today. He needed to be alert, and watering it down was not going to make this any easier. He downed the coffee almost as soon as it was in his cup, burning his tongue and scorching his throat, needing the pain just a little more than he could bear to admit to ground himself. His thoughts were going on a rampage again.

After grabbing his bagel and barely putting butter on it, he went back to his room and grabbed his phone, seeing that his only message was from Matt, with his mother’s phone number and a small message at the bottom.

Matt: _I know you probably forgot her name already. It’s Lisa. When you call her, don’t just start asking questions, let her say whatever she wants to first, or you won’t get anything done. And please, for the love of all that is holy, do not ask her to call you Al, because we will never hear the end of it._

Alfred smiled fondly at his phone. Matt knew him better than he would probably ever admit, because while he was a quiet guy, he was very observant. He could be talkative if you got him going, but mostly stayed to himself in public. Alfred added the number to his contacts, so that if he forgot her name again he could just look at his phone before answering.

Alfred dialed and called, only halfway through the ringing realizing she might not speak English and it was - what, 7 hours ahead of him there? He glanced at the clock, seeing it was 9:42, which meant it was almost 5 there. Alfred didn’t have any time to reconsider as the woman picked up the phone.

“ _Bonjour_ ,” she said, sounding bubbly and whimsical, just like her appearance made Alfred think she would sound. Alfred stuttered for a few seconds before trying to recall any French he might have known, but coming up blank.

“Ah, bonjour? Is this Matt’s mother?” Alfred said, hoping with every fibre in his being that she spoke English too. Matthew knew French, since he was originally from Toronto, so that was why Alfred wasn’t too sure.

“Ah, _oui_ , is this my lovely Matthieu’s friend Alfred?” Lisa asked, sounding expectant.

“Yes ma’am, that’s me,” Alfred replied, “he said you might be able to help me figure out what’s going on with the...things I’m seeing.”

“Ah, _oui_ , I can. Tell me, Alfred, could you tell me exactly what they look like?” Lisa asked, and there was a sound like the slide of fabric in the background, and then the sound of couch springs.

“Yes, I can,” Alfred responded, focusing on his wrist to see the two gold strings and one gold band, like a bracelet, and then multiple strings tied to his fingers with two different colors, silver and red, with most of the strings cut. He described this to Lisa, the way the cut ones were faded, and the way the silver ones had a slight shine to them, but were nothing in comparison to the shimmering beauty of the gold ones. There were also a few ring-like bands around his fingers, but not many, mostly red. He heard the sound of pages turning and hums of both approval and confusion from her over in France.

“Mr. Jones, there’s only two things you said that I need more information on. First of all, I’m concerned about all those cut strings - could you estimate just how many there are?”

Alfred inspected his hand, and put the phone between his shoulder and head to look at his other hand too. There were...a lot, to be honest, and he tried to count, but gave up after twenty, realizing it would take too long. “I tried to count, but I gave up after twenty, Mrs. Bonnefoy. What are they?”

Lisa clicked her tongue on the other end, and he heard the harsh turn of a page. “ _Pauvre chose_ , those are the strings of people you have cut ties with. You have so many...I’m sorry dear, it must have been hard on you. Do not tug on them, they will bring back memories, both happy and sad, and that is not good for you. Try not to look at them much.” She sounded so motherly, and it had been so, so long since Alfred had had someone speak that way to him. It felt nice to have someone’s concern.

“As for the ones with strings, those are your friends or people you have some kind of connection to, and the little rings, those are people you are destined to meet. The colors of the ones on your fingers are important. You see, the red ones mean that you were meant to be friends or some other form of acquaintance, maybe even an enemy. The silver ones were people you are likely to be friends with, and could have even come to love and have a relationship with, or just be your best friend.” Lisa continued. Alfred stared at the strings in amazement as she said this, staring at all the cut silver strings that seemed to have lost their shine long ago.

“And what about the gold ones, ma’am?” he asked tentatively, now turning his attention to the shimmering strings linked to his wrist. Lisa let out a slightly confused noise from the other side.

“ _Oui_ , about those,” she said, her accent becoming thicker in her confusion, “are you positive there are three? And that they are tied to your wrist?”

Alfred turned his arm over, and sure enough, they were still exactly as they were. “Yes, all except the band. It almost seems like my arm is a spool of thread for that one, and I have most of the string still wrapped around my wrist.”

Mrs. Bonnefoy hummed on the other side, and he heard the book she had been flipping through snap shut. “I guess you are lucky, _mon amour_. You see, I have never heard of a person having three. There is usually only one, and it is connected to your soulmate. Do you know who the two tied ones are connected to, Alfred?”

Alfred felt all the blood drain from his face as she told him. He swallowed heavily, and watched the golden threads with renewed interest. “Yes ma’am,” he said hoarsely, “I know who they are. What do I do?”

Mrs. Bonnefoy sounded concerned again. “Mr. Jones, is this not good news? You have two different soul mates to love, and an apparent third one you have not met yet. Are they not who you wanted them to be?”

A tidal wave of emotions hit Alfred as he sank to the ground on the wall by his bed. That was exactly the problem - they were the two people he secretly wanted them to be. Nothing would make him happier than those two.

“I - that’s - no, that’s not the problem,” he choked out. He really didn’t want to, but he knew he was about to have a breakdown with Matt’s mom still on the phone. “They’re the best two people I could have ever hoped for.” he said, voice shaking and tears streaming down his face at the truth in his own words.

“Mr. Jones? Alfred? Dear, talk to me, tell me what is wrong.” Lisa begged, “Why is that not a good thing? What is there to be sad about?”

Alfred let out a broken sob. His best friend, and his boyfriend. The two people he had come to care so much about, the two that were in love with each other, the two he thought no one could break apart. His best friend and the one person Alfred had finally thought was worthy of the person he loved the most in this world.

“Mrs. Bonnefoy? You won’t hate me if I tell you something terrible, will you?” Alfred asked. He probably shouldn’t tell her, considering how much she loved Matthew and approved of his and Matt’s relationship. But Alfred was selfish, and Lisa had shown him kindness, and in such a motherly, caring voice, too. He needed to take advantage of it like he needed air to breathe, because he couldn’t help but destroy people’s images of him.

“ _Non_ , Alfred, I will not hate you! Tell me.” she soothed, her voice sounding like the coo of his own mother all those years ago when he had scraped his knee on the way home from school, a voice that reminded him of a warm hug and the feeling of a type of love he hadn’t experienced since he was a young teenager.

“The strings are tied to Matthew and your son.” he admitted, and a broken sob escaped his throat after the words left his mouth. He felt like his chest was being ripped apart, threads from stitched up wounds coming undone and tangling around his throat to choke him.

Lisa was quiet for a few moments, before her own voice came over the line, heartbroken as well, but not in the way Alfred expected. He was expecting the heartbroken voice of someone that realized someone was threatening her son’s happiness, but instead was sympathizing was Alfred, whom she barely knew. “Oh, Alfred. I am so sorry.” she said, sounding truly distraught. Alfred once again let very unmanly noises slip past his lips, and heard the sound of Lisa’s breathing getting heavier as well.

“You have endured so many hardships, and now this - oh, _pauvre chose_. _Pauvre chose_.” she said, voice trembling through the phone.

Alfred felt bad now, for making such a sweet person cry, and over something she shouldn’t have to deal with. It was another heartbreak within itself. Now he saw himself as a threat to Matt and Matthew, the very people he sought to protect. If he kept hanging around them, and the soulmate thing went both ways, that meant one of them could fall for him, and then they might break up. Either way, he could be hurting one of them. He cared about them too much, especially Matthew. Over the months, Matt had also earned a pretty high standing in his heart, being one of the only people that didn’t question his loyalty to Matthew, but in fact appreciated how much he cared about and wanted to protect Matthew.

Alfred couldn’t do that. He couldn’t even risk doing that to either of them, and while this might hurt the two now, it would be better for both of them in the long run. Alfred knew what he had to do, and decided now was his chance to do it, even as his heart was still in the process of breaking, and he hadn’t even let the ache set in.

“Mrs. Bonnefoy, you are very kind, and I would like to ask you to do me a favor, if you don’t mind.” Alfred said, voice wavering but still strong with determination. As he stood up to pace his room, he realized this was the only thing he could do to protect the people he loved the most, and he would do everything in his power to do so.

Lisa gave a small cough to calm herself before answering, “ _Oui_ , I will do it, whatever it is I can, to help you darling.”

Alfred sucked in a sharp breath. This felt wrong to say, his mouth fighting against it, wanting to shut so he wouldn’t say the words. “I need you to tell Matt - Mattieu, that he won’t be seeing me anymore. Um, tell him to take care of Matthew -” his voice cracked, and a small sob escaped again, “- and that he should only contact me if it’s an emergency. Tell him to tell Matthew...no nevermind. Just tell Mattieu that I won’t be around, and it’s for his and Matthew’s sake.”

Lisa had already tried to interrupt, but now cried out with indignation. “ _Non_ , I cannot! I cannot do that, it is too much! You need them, as they need you, I cannot do this to you, you cannot do this to yourself! Think of how much it will hurt them!”

Alfred tried to explain, “But ma’am, if one of them was to fall in love with me, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. Not after everything I’ve done to protect Matthew, and how happy they make each other, and...I love them,” he admitted, even to himself, “I love them both. I can’t do that.”

There was silence on both ends, heavy with labored breathing and a sadness because of the truth of Alfred’s words. He finally felt it was time he hung up, and gently said a goodbye, ending the call despite the sounds of Lisa starting to protest.

 **  
**Where today was supposed to bring answers, it only brought more pain. Now Alfred needed to disappear, and make sure he couldn’t hurt anyone else that he cared about.


End file.
